still broken
by i set my sims on fire
Summary: You don't know if you love him because you're not quite sure what love is - Albus/Scorpius. Slash.


**Warning: language and boy/boy love. if that somehow offends you, then please do not read.**

_still broken_

His lips brush your neck, pressing kisses into the soft white skin and murmuring words, promises that he'll never leave and he tells you that you can't ever leave him when you can and he's lying.

He probably will leave, that's not what hurts, you're used to it. You're used to his lips pushing against yours and the way that you taste coffee and fear in his mouth,you're used to the way he falls asleep so quickly afterwards, and the way his heart beats underneath you as you lie across his chest, one of his hands sprawled underneath your back, caressing your chest. And you're also used to the times when you leave the safety of your dormitory and your hands are not entwined and you go back to being Al and Scorpius, best friends.

Best friends and nothing more.

But he's not ready to out himself, and truth be told, you're not either. And you refuse to allow yourself to care when he slips off hand-in-hand with a pretty girl and a smirk on his face, simply raising an eyebrow when he returns to your dorm, bright-eyed with messy hair.

You're silent for a while and he doesn't say anything either, and then he snakes one arm around your neck and you don't refuse him when he attaches his mouth to yours, even though it tastes less like coffee and you bitterly wonder who has been there before you today.

And that's where you are now, the lights off, silence. He is half-asleep, and your face is buried in his shoulder and you feel at peace, almost, maybe. You're not so sure what peace is anymore, but this is the closest you've come in a while.

You think about his words and how he begged you not to leave, and, fuck it, because in the morning he'll leave. He'll leave because he has classes and you do too, but then he'll come crawling back later smelling of your cousins perfume, and Rose is going to kill you when she finds out.

Not that Scorpius is Rose's; Scorpius isn't anyone's, except maybe yours, just a little bit, because he always comes crawling back and he's kissed your tears away and you know about the birth mark on his lower back, and Rose has never mentioned a birth mark on his lower back. And Rose would mention it, because she's in a constant battle with Lucy for Scorpius and you laugh hollowly because neither of them know him like you do.

You're his best friend though, and a _boy_ so they don't suspect you to be the real enemy. You are content with that, kind of, at least they aren't pointing their wands at you over the breakfast table.

Scorpius murmurs, he's already fallen into the blurry world of sleep and you can tell by the soft sounds he's making that he's in some kind of dream world. You know he'll tell you about it in the morning; he always does, because dreams fascinate him and he has a tendency to lead you up to the astronamy tower on Saturday nights because he links his dreams and his nightmares to the stars, and it's where you had your first kiss.

You wonder if he's having a nightmare, his face does tend to scrunch up like that when he's having a nightmare, and perhaps you're dreaming too now because you swear that he is holding you tighter. You press a gentle kiss into his neck, just in case.

Sometimes, Scorpius tells you that he loves you and you don't really believe him, because in all the years you've known him, Scorpius Malfoy hasn't done love. He whispers things he doesn't mean into girl's ears and the crown of their heads. Maybe you should be disgusted. But you're not, because he does the exact same thing to you.

Except, when he tells _you_ that he loves you, he sometimes adds two little words- 'I'm' and 'in' and that makes it a little more meaningful, you like to think. So you thank Merlin he can't see the blush grazing your cheeks in the darkness of your dormitory and you press chaste kisses over his lips and his skin and murmur that you love him, too, sometimes. Other times you pretend you haven't heard him, and you let him fall asleep in your arms.

You don't know if you love him because you're not quite sure what love is.

/

He leaves you in the morning, waking you up when he detaches his arm from your waist and he throws on a shirt as you watch with blurry vision. He winks at you, then leaves to go to breakfast and you don't want to face the bright eyes of your family so you lie in bed, half-asleep.

He comes back little less than half an hour later and throws a piece of toast in your direction, and you duck to stop it hitting you square in the face. The toast is burnt, sodden with butter, you wrinkle your nose and chuck it across the room. It misses the bin. No one picks it up. You wonder if Scorpius made any detours in broom cupboards on the way up, with your breakfast. He sticks his tongue out at you, from across the room. It turns your stomach, and you decide not to ask.

He's your best friend today, right here, right now, and he's not the boy you're partaking in some sort of illicit affair with, potentially breaking several of your cousins' hearts and disappointing your father. When put like that, you figure you should care more, but you don't.

He grins at you, and tells you to get out of bed because if you don't turn up to keep him company in Charms then he'll hex you. Then, he's half-way out of the room and you ask where he's going. You both have a free-period now and, hell, you're not expecting anything, you're just curious. Honest.

He smirks in that fucking annoying way of his and tells you how little Rosie came to breakfast with her make-up perfect and her two top shirt buttons undone and she told him in a low voice she'd forgotten to do her Potions essay and could he help her, pretty please, whilst resting her hand on his arm and fluttering her eyelashes, and Lucy looked ready to curse her cousin into oblivion.

You roll your eyes. You tell Scorpius he's a prick, and he laughs, looking almost proud of himself, and you think, for a moment, poor Lucy, but you're fucking her over just as much as Rose is. You're screwing with Rose, too, even though Scorpius does not belong to Lucy or Rose or any girl in the Hogwarts castle, and they're being stupid, really.

You're being just as stupid, you're kidding yourself, almost, maybe. But Scorpius looks you in the eye when he tells you nice things and he begs you not to leave him with tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, where the demons hide, and he doesn't murmur lies into the crown of your head, and that probably counts for nothing but you don't care.

You roll out of bed five minutes before Charms and you pull on your clothes and run your fingers through your hair, and you look like shit. You don't particularly care. People will fawn over you no matter how you look. You're Harry Potter's son, remember?

You entre the classroom ten minutes late and Flitwick glares at you and you shrug and Scorpius grins. He says something about how he thought you were going to ditch you, for a moment there, and you mumble 'shut up' or something because you're tired. You always seem a bit tired, these days, you can't sleep at night, not even to the sound of Scorpius' heart beat, or the low murmuring of his sleep-talking.

You eye Scorpius a few moments later, and notice that his hair isn't particularly messy, his eyes only a little brighter than usual. Rose sends him flirty glances from across the other side of the room where she's sat next to some Gryffindor girl who is trying to catch your eye. Rose won't stop flashing her eyelashes. Her school shirt isn't done up one hundred percent correctly. Scorpius catches her eye, flashes her a smirk. He catches you watching.

He shrugs, and says 'what?' and tells you he didn't even shag her. You stop listening because it's making you feel quite sick.

You don't do any of your work, preoccupied in wonder. Scorpius is by no means the best looking guy in the school; that was long since awarded to your brother, or one of your cousins- Louis, maybe. Or perhaps the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, whose name has escaped your memory. No, Scorpius is not the best looking boy around, he is simply the biggest player, the most arrogant arsehole excluding James. You wonder why you put up with him.

And then he reaches for your hand underneath the desk, squeezing your palm gently before letting go. Sometimes you catch a fragment of fear buried between the pieces of stormy darrk grey. And then it dawns on you exactly why you put up with him.

/

He wakes you up at a quarter past three in the morning. It's an accident, of course. He's shaking horrible from a nightmare and there just might be tears streaming down his cheeks the way he hates, and you hold him tight.

You become him. You press kisses into his beautiful fair hair, and stroke his back soothingly, wrapping your arms around him and softly murmuring lies that it'll be alright. You both know this is a lie. Neither of you will be alright, but you have each other and that's the next best thing.

He doesn't know why he is the way he is, just as you don't know why you are the way you are. But you kiss the tears away, calm him down with whispererd words and chaste kisses, soothing him until his heart stops racing and his palms stop sweating, until the fear is cracked at the edges and not so consumig.

You both know that you can't take the fear away from Scorpius completely. Just as he can't take the sadness from your eyes.

'I'm scared, Al,' Scorpius murmurs, and he's your best friend but these are the only time he really feels human to you.

'I know,' you soothe, brushing his hair out of his eyes. You do not kiss him, instead you envelope him into a hug and think that maybe this is the most human you've ever been, too.

You're no good with this stuff usually; you're not the caring kind, but there's something about Scorpius that makes you say fuck it and hold him close, there's something about him that puts the words you didn't think you'd ever say into your mouth and you breathe the courage into him.

You dislike the way your situation sounds. Two boys. Almost broken, not quite alright. A forbidden love of sorts, because one of the boys is also kind of a whore and he's shagging at least two of boy number two's cousins. It's a little bit messed up. They're a little bit messed up.

And then Scorpius kisses you on the mouth, leaning in for you to meet him half-way and you can't bring yourself to regret a single thing. It doesn't matter if you're a bad person, or that this would kill Lucy and Rose. All that matters is now and how right it feels to be pressed up against Scorpius' lips.

'Al?'

'Mm?'

'I love you.'

/

Morning comes, and the temporary vulnerability goes. Scorpius wakes up as if he wasn't crying into your lips last night and flings on a shirt and is out of the dorm down to breakfast, to flirt with your cousins and earn glares from James before you can even process last nights events. You wonder, you wonder if Scorpius actually does love you, because you've come to realize something.

You do.

You do love him. He's the only person who's seen beneath your shell, beneath the icy facade you wear. He's the only one who has kissed the salty tears dripping down your cheeks away, the only one who knows how much everything hurts.

He knows about the overwhelming sadness; he knows about the time you tried to run away in any direction and how your Dad's auror team found you before you'd even found a way to escape the life England bounded you so harshly to.

You love him, and although you know he's going to run, someday, to escape the Malfoy name that hangs over his head and taunts him- you hope he'll at least, take you with him.

You don't go to a single lesson that day. You know Scorpius will hex you when he gets back up, and you'll have about five teachers on your case, but you can't bring yourself to care. You won't get in much trouble. You're Harry Potter's son. They won't do fuck all, not to you. You're not even being vain; you hate your surname, and the suffocation it brings, the expectations, and it seems Scorpius is the only one who looks past it.

You're bitterly wondering how many broom closets he's stumbled in and out of today, slightly hurt. You'd like him all to yourself, sometimes. You push the thoughts away. Don't get attached, never get attached.

It seems it's too late for that.

Scorpius stumbles into the dormitory, minutes later. He points his wand at you, almost threateningly. Except your his best friend and apparent fuck buddy, so you know you're not in danger.

'Albus Severus Potter,' Scorpius hisses. 'You're under arrest for treason.'

'Treason?' you raise an eyebrow.

Scorpius almost flings himself onto the bed. Your bed. 'You left me all alone in Potions, today. And Defense. And Transfiguration. McGonagall isn't happy with you either.'

'That's not treason, Scor.'

'_Betrayal,_' Scorpius corrects himself. 'Why've you been up here all day, anyway?'

You shrug. 'I didn't wanna get out of bed.'

Scorpius' eyes flash with worry. 'Is it getting bad, again?'

You shrug. Again.

'Oh,' he slumps, before his arms find there way around you, and you're wrapped in his embrace, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. 'I love you. You know that, right?'

You raise an eyebrow.

'I do,' Scorpius protests, as if reading your mind. 'Honest.'

'I love you, too,' you say, almost shyly.

'You're not going to leave me, are you?'

'If I leave, I'll take you with me.'

Scorpius smiles at him, a fraction of his vulnerability showing in his gaze. You return the smile, and your eyes don't light up but that's good enough for Scorpius.

You love him, and he loves you back. And you're still not okay; he's still scared, and you're still broken. You're still spending days on end in bed, planning intricate escapes and drawing diagrams of your plans in your mind. He's still fucking your cousins.

You're in the same mess. You're still broken.

But with a bit of practise, you might be alright.

**A/N; i need to stop writing albus angst oop not even sorry. i know this fic is a mess and the ending is weird, but if you did like it at all i'd love it if you could leave a review!**


End file.
